


Anything to Get Close to You

by ShortAngryTwinks



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Double Penetration, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Crack, Foursome - F/F/M/M, Foursome - F/M/M/M, Haus Parties (Check Please!), M/M, Multi, Spin the Bottle, Threesome - F/M/M, Voyeurism, false declarations of no homo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-07 17:40:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21461947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShortAngryTwinks/pseuds/ShortAngryTwinks
Summary: “I don’t know, this is kind of stretching the reasonable limits of a wingman.”Holster makes a sad face and Ransom wants to cry just a little bit.“But who am I to deny a bro his shot.”Holster’s face lights up, and he slings an arm around Ransom’s shoulder.“Come on, let me introduce you to Sarah.”-----5 Times Ransom and Holster have sex with other people, and one time it's just the two of them.
Relationships: Adam "Holster" Birkholtz/Justin "Ransom" Oluransi, Adam "Holster" Birkholtz/Justin "Ransom" Oluransi/ OFC/ OMC, Adam "Holster" Birkholtz/Justin "Ransom" Oluransi/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 193
Collections: OMGCP Big Bang 2019





	Anything to Get Close to You

It started off surprisingly poetically, all things considered.

It’s freshman year and he and Holster are studying together for midterms in the Haus living room, surrounded by their respective laptops, stacks of textbooks, and more coffee than they probably should have. Ransom has been stressed all week in anticipation, and his first midterm is the next day. But even anxiety fueled fervor can only get him so far.

He rubs his temples for approximately the 5,000th time that week and leans back in his chair. He stretches out his aching muscles and opens his eyes. Which then fall to Holster.

They’re sitting next to the window, and Ransom distantly notes that they’d been at it longer than he thought, sunset is nearing. 

What comes before sunset is something photographers call golden hour: that period of time where everything the light touches is cast in a warm golden glow. The light, at the moment, is touching Holster. It lights his hair up so it looks like more of a golden halo around his head than an unkempt mess and casts his skin in a warm golden hue as well. Ransom’s breath catches in his throat.

Holster looks up. His face splits into a smile as he catches Ransom staring, and his irises are lightened by the sun, a pale but beautiful shade of blue.

_ God he’s beautiful. _Ransom thinks.

Then, seconds later: _ god I’m fucked. _

——

Somehow they manage to get through the next three months before the summer with minimal awkwardness on Ransom’s part

The funny thing is it isn’t even hard. Sometimes he looks at Holster and an invisible hand wraps itself around his heart and squeezes. In those moments he feels his breath leave his body and freezes, awestruck, either with his mouth open or with a probably dopey smile on his face. 

Then Holster says something funny, chirps him for zoning out, or suggests they go grab pizza. The hand loosens--but doesn’t leave. 

It’s so easy to fall into a rhythm of chirping and joking around, of finishing each other's sentences and tossing pieces of pepperoni into each others mouths. 

It isn’t like any conventional romance story, but then again, it never will be. Because Holster is straight, and Ransom categorically refuses to ever let him know about this crush.

It’ll blow over. 

That’s what he tells himself every time Holster does something ridiculous that makes his stomach do cartwheels. It’s what he tells himself on the porch of the Haus, after they’ve secured their dibs to the attic and Holster is telling him how schwasome it is that they’re going to be roomies. It’s what he tells himself when he’s helping Holster pack his dorm up. They finish the last box and Holster just looks at him, looks around the room and says “out of everything, I’ll miss you the most.”

The hand is back, tightening its grip fatally, irrevocably. 

Ransom doesn’t know what to do, Holster is looking away, like he’s embarrassed to have said it. But now he isn’t responding and Holster is turning to look at him so he just chokes out an emotion riddled “bro.”

Holster laughs, this explosive bark of a thing.

“Bro.” he responds solemnly, after taking a moment to collect himself. “You had better skype me every day.”

Ransom grins, feeling screwed and elated all at once.

“Hell yeah man. Every day.”

——-

So he keeps his crush under wraps. They skype every day over the summer. Then they come back in August and they’re back to playing hockey together, studying together, hanging out together, pretty much doing everything together. Ransom compartmentalizes. Tries his damndest not to be creepy, keeps his eyes on his locker in the locker room, on the wall in the bedroom when Holster gets out of the shower and needs to change.

So, for the record, he never would have agreed to this if Holster wasn’t the one asking. Not when he knows he has feelings for Holster. Legitimate “sometimes looking at you makes me want to cry, but, like, in a good way” feelings. 

He understands that accepting a proposition to a threesome with the guy you have a massive crush on is probably a little creepy. Would probably make all his careful avoidance moot.

If Sarah had asked _ him _ , he would have politely turned her down, despite the fact that she’s a total ten. He would have told her about the two LAX bros that are always down, he would have bowed out. Because Holster is straight, and he isn’t and Holster doesn’t even _ know _that. 

He doesn’t know how to tell him without making it painfully obvious that he’s massively crushing on him. Doesn’t want it to ruin the friendship they have.

But when Holster comes up to him with his droopy pouty puppy dog eyes and asks? How can he say no?

\--------

The first party of the year is the Haus welcome home bash, two weeks after everyone has settled in. Shitty had grabbed them at the beginning of the year, named them co-planners and shamelessly fed into Ransom’s love of planning and organizing, and Holster’s love of parties and collaborating with Ransom on semi-stupid things. 

Thus, this party is giving him a slightly warm and fuzzy feeling solely because he had a hand in its organization. It has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he organized it with Holster. No, not at all.

It’s crowded, and Ransom has to weave his way towards the bathroom to receive his tub juice. He takes a sip and gives a jaunty salute to the ladler before squeezing his way back out of the room, already feeling a very mild buzz from his prior beer. He’ll have to pace himself through this drink. The night is still young, and he’s not sure wether or not he’s going to get laid.

He and Holster split up when he set out to get another drink, but it seems like he’s chatting up a very attractive girl at the moment. It seems to be going well, Ransom doubts his services as a wingman will be required. He scans the room for an attractive girl of his own, already having won the coin toss for the attic tonight and knowing he’s allowed to invite whoever it is upstairs. 

His eyes land back on Holster. The girl he’s talking to seems very charmed. She’s pretty as all hell too, with long legs and perfectly styled dark brown hair. She laughs at whatever Holster is saying. There’s no doubt that Holster is scoring tonight. 

Ransom sighs and tries not to be jealous. He knows he’s a hypocrite, knows he’s trying to get laid himself. It doesn’t make it any easier to shake his intense desire to be the one touching Holster tonight. To touch him any time, really. 

He scans the room again.

Two girls are dancing together across the room.

He’s mentally calculating his chances of joining them when one breaks away to dance with someone else. The other seems unbothered. Now’s his chance if he wants to slide into the spot the other girl left. He steps forward to make his move, but a hand on his shoulder catches him.

It’s Holster. He seems a little nervous. Ransom glances in the direction of the girl he was talking to. She’s scrolling on her phone where Holster left her.

“Why are you here?” Ransom asks, running through fantasies in his head where Holster replies about realizing Ransom is actually who he wants—before mentally slamming that file door closed. “You were totally about to get it.” 

“Yeah.” Holster says, rubbing the back of his neck. “About that. My getting it is actually kind of conditional upon you being there.”

The file door slams back open.

“What?” Ransom responds, dumbly.

Holster surreptitiously looks around the room, seeming embarrassed. No one is paying them any mind.

“She said she wanted a threesome.” Holster replies, voice dropping into an almost intimate register as he tries for discretion. Ransom suppresses an involuntary shiver at the sound, mentally forcing the door closed again.

“I said i’d see what I could do.” Holster makes these puppy dog eyes at him and he’s so, so weak.

“I don’t know, this is kind of stretching the reasonable limits of a wingman.”

He’s trying, he really is. Because he knows this is a terrible idea. He knows he’s going to see so many things that he’s not going to be able to forget, things he’s not sure he can stop himself from thinking about when he’s alone. He can already see all the ways this could go wrong, can feel how creepy he’s going to feel.

Holster makes a sad face and Ransom wants to cry just a little bit.

“But who am I to deny a bro his shot.”

Holster’s face lights up, and he slings an arm around Ransom’s shoulder. 

“Come on, let me introduce you to Sarah.”

——

Sarah has long, silky brown hair, flattering curves, and hunger in her eyes. She smiles wolfishly as they approach.

“Ransom.” She says, voice silken and pleasant. She sticks her hand out as if to shake. But when Ransom takes it she claps her other hand on top of his.

Her voice goes low and intimate, her expression still predatory.

“I’m looking forward to getting to know you better.” She says.

Ransom kind of wants to sweat under the intensity of her gaze, but he also kind of wants to melt. She’s hot like burning.

Holster clears his throat beside him, then leans in to speak to Ransom in a more intimate register, one still audible to Sarah. 

“I’m starting to feel a little used.” He quips, right by Ransoms ear.

Sarah withdraws her hands from his and turns to give Holster a bemused look.

“I already spent thirty minutes ogling you. If I only wanted him I would have approached him.”

“She asked for me specifically?” Ransom asks.

“Yeah.” Holster says, slinging a friendly arm over his shoulder. “Good thing it was you, I don’t think I could have agreed if it was someone else.”

Ransom feels heat rush to his face and is very grateful that it probably won’t show. It’d be too telling, something tells him especially so under Sarah’s sharp gaze.

“You two have a reputation for being very close. I figured that was a good indicator that you might be willing to work together off the ice as well as on.”

“We sure can.” Holster says.

——

She orders an Uber to her place, which is a relief, because the twin beds in the attic are barely suitable for two people, let alone three.

They all pile into the back seat. It’s probably ill advised, given how big they both are, but she doesn’t seem to mind, holding both their hands in hers. 

The Uber driver winks at him in the rear view and he automatically grins back cheekily. He may not feel like it at the moment, but he does have game and it usually flows out of him effortlessly. Just not when Holster is involved.

When they get out of the car and bid their Uber driver goodbye, Ransom turns to Sarah.

“Do you have a Venmo? I’ll pay you back on the app.”

“I’d prefer if you paid me back in the bedroom.” She says, winking suggestively. “Just do what I tell you tonight and it’ll be more than worth it for me.” 

“I think I can swing that.” He replies, and she smiles at him as she opens the front door to her apartment complex and ushers them inside.

Holster gives him a wink as he passes and Ransom is finally starting to slide into a comfortable numbness about the whole situation. It doesn’t feel entirely real, and he therefore can’t freak out about it too much.

He’s getting into the familiar rhythm of flirtatiousness he usually has with his hookups, holding the door for Sarah when she opens it and smiling in a way that shows off his dimples and the teeth he wears a retainer on every night to keep perfect.

Sarah draws him into the room by his shirt and he closes the door behind him. 

She kisses him then, heels making it so she barely has to crane her neck up to meet him, pushing him back into the door he just finished closing. It’s surprisingly assertive, not that he minds, he just falls into the rhythm of kissing her back. 

She gasps into the kiss and he opens his eyes, wondering what the hell he did to elicit that response.

Apparently, he didn’t do anything. Holster has swept her hair aside and is sucking a hickey into her clavicle as they kiss. Or at least, as they were kissing. Now she breaks off, leaning back into Holster.

Not one to be outdone, Ransom strips his shirt off, watching as her eyes rake over him hungrily, drinking the sight in. 

“Cheater.” Holster snickers, obviously having caught on to, or maybe even created the slight competitive spark.

“Now boys,” Sarah tsks, “I thought you were more collaborative than that.”

Holster eyes Ransom over her shoulder, not saying anything, but rather stepping back to take his own shirt off. 

“I think we can manage to collaborate and compete at the same time.” Ransom assures, forcing himself to look at her instead of Holster.

Avoiding looking at Holster is easier than it would have been if he didn’t have to do it in the locker room on a regular basis. Besides, she’s a significantly more pleasant sight than his cubby.

Holster unzips her dress and she smiles, stepping out of it and kicking it aside.

Definitely outranks his cubby.

“Do you have condoms?” She asks. The question is clearly directed at him.

“Yeah.” Ransom says. “I do.”

She smiles. “Good. You’re going to need them.” Then she kicks her shoes off and struts towards her bedroom.

They both watch her go for a second, but it doesn’t take long for Ransom’s gaze to fall on Holster. He feels it, and meets his eyes with a smile.

“Bro I think it’s time I joint the pants free party.” He says, unzipping his jeans and kicking them aside before heading after Sarah.

She’s in her bedroom, and she's undoing her bra when they come in.

“So nice of you to join me.” She quips.

Ransom feels himself smile sheepishly at that, unable to help being charmed by her.

She tosses her bra aside and turns to face him, looking him dead in the eyes, unabashed.

“Got those condoms?” 

He obligingly pulls one out of his pocket.

“Good.” She smiles. “I want you to fuck me while Holster sucks my clit.”

Ransom can feel himself freezing. He can’t help it. His brain is rebooting at the thought of Holster’s face so close to his dick. He doesn’t want to creep on his bro while they’re in a three way, but there is pretty much no way not to think about him when at any moment his balls could hit his chin. 

Besides, Holster is straight, this is too soon, there’s no way he’s not going to object to being so close to Ransom’s dick.

Ransom’s panicked gaze swings to Holster. He expects disgust, reluctance, refusal. He sees consideration. 

Fuck, he can’t be thinking about it. There’s no fucking way.

“Okay.” Holster says. “I’m always down to try new things.”

So it’s going to happen. Holsters face is going to be inches away from his dick while he’s balls deep in someone else. 

“So how are we going to do this?” Holster asks. “You guys in doggy style with me under?”

Ransom scoffs, snapping out of his inward stupor.

“My balls would get a full tour of your face in that position dude.” He responds, forgetting his bashfulness in favor of falling into the familiarity of drawing up a game plan with his best friend. 

He supposes it doesn’t matter that this plan is very different than most of the plans they devise, it’s a plan, and they usually have an easy back and forth to creating them.

“Nah,” he responds, “not, like me and her in sixty nine, my body would face the other way. You’d hit my chin at most, but you could avoid it if you spread eagled a little and angled in from above.”

Ransom gives the bed a dubious look.

“Half your body would be hanging off the bed if we did it like that.”

Holster gives the bed a considering look.

Sarah clears her throat.

“I was thinking Ransom and I in reverse cowgirl on the end of the bed with Holster on his knees.”

Holster thinks about it. 

“That could work.”

Sarah chuckles. “Glad you agree. Now get on your knees.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Holster replies easily, and Ransom greedily drinks in the sight of him falling to his knees like he does it every day, smooth and graceful.

Sarah turns to him then.

“Take off your pants and sit in front of him.”

Ransom freezes for a moment, realizing that he’s going to have his dick out and in Holster’s face.

Holster seems to notice his hesitance. He gives a beguiling smile.

“Don’t worry dude, no homo.”

Ransom barely stops himself from blanching. There’s no way he’s ever going to be able to come out to Holster after this.

Still, he climbs out of his pants and sits down in front of Holster, feeling exposed and hard as a rock. 

Holster looks at his dick and then smirks up at him.

“She really got you excited, huh?”

Ransom has no idea what proper threesome etiquette is between two bros, but he somehow doubts mentioning each others boners is part of it. 

He just plays it off with a wink. because that’s how they are. The rules have always been different with them. As long as he’s not violating Holster’s boundaries, he’ll take their friendship as deep as he wants it. He’s just hoping his smile will come off more genuine than it feels. This is so far out of the realm of what he’s done before it’s honestly comical. He’s had plenty of sex with girls, even fumbled around with a guy once or twice, but he’s never had sex with someone he’s in love with before, and he’s certainly never had a threesome with someone he’s in love with, who doesn’t know it, and someone else he barely knows.

He might be panicking a little, because Holster’s face is very close to his cock and he has to pretend that’s not the reason he’s hard enough to cut diamonds.

Partly to give himself an excuse to look away, he focuses all his attention on unwrapping and rolling on his condom.He sees Sarah stripping off her panties from the corner of his eye and he swallows hard, turning his gaze on her.

She approaches, smiling at him as she backs herself up onto his lap with surprising ease, hoisting herself up onto the bed so her knees bracket his. Then she leans her shoulders back against his chest and turns her head to kiss him. 

The slide of his cock against her back as she rocks gently against him is more teasing than anything, and when she sucks his tongue into her mouth he barely suppresses a moan. Then he remembers that Holster is sitting not two feet away, probably patiently waiting on Sarah to give him the green light.

Suddenly Ransom wants nothing more than to see what he looks like in that moment.

He opens his eyes, watching him as he kisses Sarah.

He’s watching them with laser focus, expression unreadable. But it doesn’t take much to read the bulge in his lap as a good sign. Ransom bites Sarah’s lip lightly and she gasps, drawing away from the kiss.

“Need you inside me about yesterday.” She says, actually seeming affected for the first time since they started this.

She guides him into her, sinking down onto his cock. Her arm is thrown being her, clutching the back of his neck and pulling him closer to her, pressing his chest tight up against her back.

She begins to roll her hips with a sinuous grace, and Ransom can’t help but moan.

She does it a good few times before rising up on her thighs, gesturing Holster closer. He obligingly scoots forward, seeming enthusiastic for the task at hand, rubs his hand up her thighs, looking up at her as if to ask permission.

She takes a handful of his hair and pulls him in. The genuine grin Ransom catches him flashing as she reels him in sets his heart fluttering. Then all he sees is a head of blonde hair between Sarah’s thighs… and his own.

He puts his hands under her thighs to steady them, tries his best to be gentle as he fucks up into her, to avoid jostling Holster too much. 

He’s watching Holster, can’t tear his eyes away. He’s fucking her, but in his minds eye he’s fucking into Holster’s mouth, and when his tongue flickers out against her clit she and Ransom both bite back a groan.

“Fuck.” she moans. “Suck it, I’m going to come.”

Ransom sees his cheeks hollow as he obliges, feels her spasm around him, thigh muscles shaking, breath coming out in a hard whine.

He fucks her through it, and so does Holster, cheeks hollowed until she moans out a hoarse “enough, enough.”

Ransom slows his pace.

“Not you.” She snaps. “Keep going till you come.”

He doesn’t even respond, just follows her order and fucks into her hard and fast. 

Holster is back on his heels, panting and flushed, face wet and lips plump and parted. It takes everything in him not to groan at the sight. As it is, he’s having a hard time peeling his eyes away. So instead he screws them shut as tight as he can and comes to a reluctant truce with that fact that he’s going to be getting off to that image frequently, now burned in his retinas.

Sarah’s got her hands on his knees now, and she moans when he pulls her hips down to meet his and grinds into her. He comes on a stuttered exhale, imagining those plush, wet lips around his cock.

——

“Powerpoints.” Holster says, leaning back in his desk chair.

“Powerpoints?” Ransom responds.

“You know they make mini projectors now?”

“Bro, I have no clue where you're going with this.” Ransom says. “But I’m in.”

Holster laughs. “I had you at PowerPoints huh?”

_ You’ve had me for almost a year now. _He thinks. Then promptly stomps that thought down.

“So.” He says. “What’s up with powerpoints?”

“I was just thinking, we end up explaining so much shit to freshmen and, just, like, random people about the Haus and hockey in general that we might as well start making power points. I also… might have impulse bought a mini projector that is currently in the mail.”

Ransom claps his hands together, steepling his fingers and pressing them up to his chin.

“Just how mini are we talking?”

“Bro.” Holster says, laughing with elation. “This shit’s, like pocket sized for sure.”

“Shit man, then we’d better get started.”

“We’ve gotta find some way to make sure Bitty is the first one to receive one of our power points.”

“Oh, for sure.” Ransom responds, with a sage nod. “He always has the best reactions to stuff.”

——

The next Haus party is the Halloween party. Holster thanks the powers that be that his midterms are all at least a week afterwards this year, because freshman year he’d had a midterm that coincided pretty closely with Halloween and almost had a breakdown when Holster tried to get him to party. 

They know each other way better now, though, and Holster understands that Ransom will never be chill around test season. Luckily for Ransom, that hasn’t scared him off. In fact, he’s pretty much figured out how to make studying way less stressful than it normally is. He just stays quiet, studies with him, forces him to take breaks at least once an hour, and brings him food. 

It’s no wonder he had realized he was in love with him while they were studying. Those are the moments when they can just be together. While Ransom wouldn’t give up the way they click on the ice, or when Holster helps him put together hockey terminology powerpoints, or the way they naturally finish each other’s sentences for anything, silently existing in each other’s space sometimes feels like an ultimate display of love. 

But they aren’t studying tonight. They’re playing beer pong, getting creamed by Lardo and Shitty (though mainly Lardo), but putting up an admirable fight.

Lardo sinks a ball into their last cup and Holster groans. Shitty pulls out an air horn from god knows where and blasts that shit, hoisting Lardo up on to his shoulders. 

“The beer pong queen continues her reign undefeated!” He bellows triumphantly.

Holster slumps his head into Ransom’s shoulder.

“We weren’t that far off.” He pouts. “Just two cups left.”

Ransom wraps his arms around Holster in a comforting hug.

“I’d say we’ll get her next time, but you’d know I’m lying.”

Holster snorts a laugh. Then elbows him, an idea clearly springing to mind.

“Dude, the shitty lighting, the ample excuse for social interaction, the mini projector I am currently carrying in my pocket. The conditions are perfect.”

He inclines his head towards the corner of the room, where Bitty is talking to Johnson. He’s wearing a bunny outfit, and going by the wrinkle in his brow, Johnson is saying some cryptic shit again.

“It’s time to give our handy dandy power points a test run.”

“It has to be natural though,” Ransom insists, “we can’t just force it into the conversation.”

“For sure, for sure.” Holster replies. “We need to talk to him if we want an opportunity to come up though.”

He holds out his fist and Holster bumps it. Then they head over to Bitty, a clear objective in mind.

“—and that’s how I came to peace with the fact that I’m a side character in a fan fiction.” Johnson finishes.

Bitty looks relieved at their arrival.

“Ransom, Holster, how are y’all doin? Love the costumes, its so nice that y’all are matching.”

Ransom had honestly forgotten that they’re dressed up. He’s not sure how, what with the goggles. But he’s gotten used to them a little.

“Of course.” Holster says, initiating a complicated handshake that Ransom automatically falls into the rhythm of. They’d come up with it in between power point slides. It’s pretty schwasome.

“Nothing like matching your best bro.” He concludes, finishing the shake with a bro hug.

“That was honestly impressive.” Bitty says, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah.” Johnson says. “But you didn’t come here to show off your costumes and handshakes. You came for something else.”

“Perhaps.” Holster confirms warily.

Johnson squints. “A presentation.”

At times, the guy boggles the mind.

“How did you _ know _?” Ransom asks, incredulous.

“I know the shape of a mini projector in someone’s pocket when I see it.”

“That’s an… oddly specific piece of knowledge.” Bitty observes.

Johnson shrugs. “It’s plot relevant. Also he’s wearing spandex, it’s not that hard to see what’s in his pockets.”

“See,” Bitty says, “it’s things like that that make me worry for you Johnson.”

“Being able to see outlines under spandex?” Johnson asks, tilting his head.

Bitty throws his hands up in the air in apparent defeat.

“Like an incredibly introspective brick wall, this one. Anyways,” Bitty continues, “what’s this about a projector?”

“I don’t know.” Ransom says, turning to Holster. “It’s kind of ruined if it’s not a surprise.”

“Bro, I got you.” Holster says, pulling the projector out of his pocket and connecting it to his phone. “I got bored and made a power point about why we’ve decided to start doing power point presentations.”

Ransom gapes for a second, then blurts out “I think you’re my soulmate.”

“We’re star crossed bros.” Holster confirms.

“Truly a bromance for the ages.” Bitty adds dryly.

Holster grins as he clicks the projector on, and Ransom can’t help but agree.

——

Winter break flies by, and before he knows it, spring semester is upon them.

About two months into the semester, Holster declares the need for a Kegster. Ransom can’t help but agree. Honestly, he’s just embracing the opportunity to relax a little and destress, midterms are coming in about two weeks, so most of his classes don’t have any tests between now and then, but he’s been sporting a tension headache for days now.

They end up settling on having a party to celebrate the time change, of all things. 

Holster coins it “Spring forward, throw it back.” It’s kind of genius, and they absolutely fistbump gratuitously over it.

Once the party is in full swing Holster gets this self satisfied look to him that kind of makes Ransom want to melt a little bit. He looks proud of himself. It’s nice on him.

Everything kind of looks nice on him.

Ransom has first shift manning the tub juice station. When Shitty comes to relieve him of his duties they preform a complicated handshake and Ransom wanders off to look for Holster. He honestly feels like there’s a magnet trying to pull them together sometimes. 

It’s not hard to find him, he’s drinking a beer and looking mildly disturbed by whatever Johnson is saying. Ransom sidles up beside him with a “sup dude.”

“Hey.” Holster responds, looking relieved.

“I better get out of here.” Johnson says. They must look confused because he waves his hand dismissively. 

“Plot device reasons, don’t worry about it. You have bigger fish to fry.” He points over their shoulders and then promptly fucks off to god knows where.

A girl is approaching them. She’s tall, looks like she could be on the volleyball team.

She’s also hot as hell. She smiles as she approaches, and Holster straightens.

“Which one of us do you think she’s coming for?” He asks, confusion disappearing.

There’s pretty much no question that she’s beelining towards them, it’s just a matter of the specifics.

“I don’t know.” Ransom manages to shoot back, out of the corner of his mouth, before she’s in front of them.

She smiles, it reminds him of someone, that wolffish grin of hers. 

“Ransom and Holster, right?” She asks. “I’m Molly. I’m friends with Sarah.”

Her gaze is darting between both of them. Ransom feels a sinking in his gut and a lightness in his head all at once as he realizes what’s happening. 

There’s no way she’s not about to ask them for a threesome.

“Y’know, there’s something I’ve been meaning to try. You two come highly recommended.”

Holster perks up next to him, seeing the name of the game.

“Yeah?” He asks, while Ransom takes a moment to collect himself under the realization that he’s about to get drawn into another threesome with a very straight man that he has a very unmanageable crush on.

It’s a strange combination of his wildest dreams and his worst nightmares coming true. Holster seems to hold no such reservations though.

“Is she a savant if some sort?”

“Oh she’s definitely a connoisseur of the ménage a trois.” She responds playfully. “She recommended you two above even those two lax bros.”

Holster visibly suppresses the urge to high five Ransom over beating the lax bros.

Ransom, on the other hand, laments the fact that he isn’t getting time to mentally prepare himself for these situations.

“So,” Holster asks gamely, unknowingly buying Ransom time to get his shit together, “what did you have in mind?”

“She told me you were versatile. She wasn’t lying.” Molly winks. “I’ve always wanted to try double penetration, and Sarah said you were both absolute gentlemen when she got her hands on you.”

Ransom almost sighs in relief. That seems manageable, with her body creating a barrier between them, what could go wrong?

___

Ransom realizes now that he had a distinct misunderstanding about the level of intimacy there would be between the two guys in a double penetration situation. They are separated by her body, sure. But as he lies flat on his back with Molly straddling him, he can distinctly feel Holster fingering her.

Turns out the barrier between vagina and anal passage is not that thick. The movement of Holster’s fingers as they scissor out, stretching her open, is clearly tangible against his cock.

The knowledge of who it is is amplifying the sensations for him, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as he tries to hold himself back. She has her face buried in his neck and her harsh panting breaths against it make him feel on edge, strung out and trapped inside her and pinned down and teased.

It’s new, but not entirely bad.

Holster withdraws the three fingers he had worked into her and spread open and she whines. It’s right by his ear and it sends this shiver down his spine and when he looks up at Holster he’s smirking. This self satisfied little look that he had not had during their time with Sarah, but which makes his heart flutter just as much as the well fucked, dazed look she had put on his face.

He leans down over her, pushes her hair to the side, and kisses her neck.

“You ready?” he asks, voice rough with arousal.

Ransom is staring at his face so intently that he almost instinctively answers with a resounding yes, but she thankfully beats him to the punch.

He grins at her answer and leans back onto his heels, rolling on a condom and winking at Ransom as he goes. Ranson grins and winks back, feigning the confidence but feeling the excitement. 

Then he’s pushing in and Ransom is feeling another thing. Namely, the clear sensation of Holster’s dick sliding against his, of Molly tightening around him and moaning in his ear.

“Fuck.” he moans, unable to help himself.

“That’s my line.” Molly pants out, laughing shakily and raising herself up on her arms. 

“God that feels good.” she moans.

“Doesn’t hurt?” Holster murmurs.

“A little.” she says. “But it’s mostly just overwhelming.”

“Can I move?” he asks.

“Let me.” She says, rolling her hips up and then back down into them. 

“Shit.” Holster says. “You’re so tight.”

“God,” She says, “okay, I’m about to collapse, you do the work.”

Ransom can feel her arms shaking on either side of him. She lowers herself down onto her elbows and her cascading hair tickles over his chest. 

Then she begins to rock gently back and forth with Holsters thrusts into her. Her hair brushes over his nipples, and back up again, Holsters dick rubs against his, her pussy clenches and she moans.

Ransom bites his lip, holding himself back.

“My clit.” She moans. “Touch my clit.”

Ransom reaches his hand under her to oblige, but evidently Holster had the same idea, and their hands brush against each other over her. For a moment, the pads of his fingers feel alight with sensation as they flutter awkwardly against Holster’s. Then Molly intervenes.

“I only need one.” She pants out, batting Holster’s hand away.

Holster grunts in acknowledgement and drops his hand back down to her side. Ransom does his best not to sprain his wrist and he reaches under her to circle his fingers around her clit.

“Fuck.” she moans. “Fuck, god that feels--” her voice cuts off into a prolonged moan and she buries her face in his neck. Ransom can feel her pussy clenching and unclenching around him, can feel her voice vibrating against his skin.

He can feel his orgasm building, keeps rubbing her clit, fingers tingling from the sensation of her pubic hair. She bites down hard on his shoulder as her pussy continues to twitch and his fingers seize in surprise. 

It feels good, if overwhelming, to be covered and pressed down and jostled by Holster’s trusts above them. But so good that the pain of her teeth against his shoulder has him spilling over the edge with a choked off moan.

Holster is still fucking into Molly, and he feels her come up onto one elbow and begin to rub her clit as he rides the last of his orgasm.

He grabs her thigh, squeezing as his orgasm ends and the oversensitivity begins.

“Again?” he pants, almost incredulous that she’s already working on another orgasm.

“Yes I--” she begins, cutting off on a moan. “Yes,” she moans, “yes, yes just fucking yes, holy shiiiit!”

Her hand stops, drops to his hips, he feels her nails dig in, feels her fluttering and clenching around him. Feels Holster still above them, hears him moan. He’s so oversensitive it hurts, his cheek tickles and he realizes he has tears leaking from his eyes. 

Fuck, he’s crying from the overstimulation, it’s just tears, and he wipes them away before anyone can notice.

But fuck, it’s just so much. Too much, he’s done, throwing the towel in. Thank god Holster and Molly are too. Holster pulls out and flops to his back, tying the condom and tossing it into the trash. Then Molly rolls off of him and in between them, breathing beginning to slow from harsh breaths to something more controlled. 

Ransom just takes a moment to let his poor dick recover before removing his own condom and reaching over them to toss it.

“Did you come twice?” Holster asks, incredulous.

“Yeah.” Molly replies dreamily. “The miracle of consecutive female orgasms. I’m going to be sore as a motherfucker in the morning though. We’re spooning.” She announces. “I call middle spoon.”

“I call little spoon!” Holster exclaims.

Ransom isn’t sure what noise he makes at that, but he certainly makes it.

“Bro, I’m six foot four.” Holster says, turning onto his side with his back to Molly. “I’ve never been little spoon before.”

Ransom turns onto his side and loops an arm over Molly’s waist. His fingers brush against Holster’s back.

If he didn’t know any better, he could have sworn he felt him shiver at the touch.

——

The Uber back to the Haus isn’t exactly awkward, but Holster does turn to look at him seriously about a quarter of the way there.

“Were you okay at the end there?” He asks.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Holster hesitates. “You were crying a little. Was something wrong?”

Ransom feels his face heat. Fuck this is embarrassing.

“It wasn’t psychological.” He assures. “I was just overwhelmed.”

He darts a glance to the Uber driver, who seems to be paying attention to the road, and lowers his voice.

“I came, like, right after she did man.”

“I noticed.” Holster responds.

“Yeah, well, you guys kind of kept going for a bit afterwards.”

“Ooooh.” Holster says, then flinches in understanding. “Sorry.”

“No, no.” Ransom reassures. “It’s fine. It was honestly amazing right until the last ten seconds or so, just a lot.”

“Well, good.” Holster says, smiling crookedly.

Then quieter, he adds “I think it was amazing too.”

——

Holster just left for his 3:30 class, but Ransom is done for the day. 

It’s early enough in the semester that he isn’t worrying too much over classes yet, that he still has a decent amount of free time. His class work is done, he’s read ahead even. He finishes another power point he was working on to whip out with Holster when things need explaining. 

It’s nice, having enough free time to expand the power point cache. Now that they’re almost Juniors, the questions have been directed towards them more and more often, so it’s good to have slides on hand to give the freshmen especially magical experiences.

He leans back in his chair and stretches his arms out until his shoulders pop, then winces. Side sleeping isn’t doing him any favors.

Holster has recently gotten him into doing shoulder presses, which are just as bad in terms of making him feel like a bowl of rice crispies. But when Holster offered to physically demonstrate how the machine works… he might have taken a little longer than he normally would to learn how to use it.

This was not at all because he was distracted by the play of Holsters muscles under his skin, or the way a bead of sweat was rolling down his neck.

Normally he’s used to Holster shirtless. He sees it on a regular enough basis that his eyes typically slide over it like water, thankfully. But sometimes, Holster laughs, or flexes a certain way, or makes an especially enticing noise while lifting. Then Ransom can’t for the life of him peel his eyes away.

Sometimes Holster catches him, but he always just laughs and chirps him about zoning out. It makes him feel slimy, knowing that he’s violating his trust like that. Especially since it’s such a complete trust.

But he also can’t help but think about the things he’s seen, especially when he’s alone. Can’t help but replay the memories on loop in his mind. His back muscles, his neck, his smile. The sure grip of his hands on the bar, the callus he’s been forming there since the beginning of the semester that’s slowly healed into hardened skin. The way his hand feels when he grips his shoulder in passing, soft in some places, rough in others. The way it might feel against his dick.

He’s achingly hard now, tenting his comfortable basketball shorts, and he can’t help but shove his hand down the front and firmly squeeze himself at the base—quelling, encouraging; fuck if he knows at this point.

He wonders if Holster’s hand would feel the same. Is it bigger? They’ve never compared palms before, but he thinks it might be. 

He wonders if Holster jacks off the same way he does.

He spits into his palm, thumbs over the head of his dick, and remembers. Remembers the way Holster had looked kneeling, the way his mouth had looked, spit slick and dripping. He thumbs along the base of his dick, pressing against his balls, and alters the memories, stitches them together.

Holster kneeling in front of him, his hands on his dick, a string of spit connecting his mouth to the head of Ransom’s cock. His lips are red and swollen, shining. He smiles, the same confident smirk he’d given Molly, and dips his head back down to mouth along Ransom’s dick.

Ransom pants and strokes himself to the fantasy, turning his head and muffling a cry into his shoulder as he shoots his load to the mental image of cumming on Holster’s face. Of him blinking and laughing in surprise and chirping out a “dude, now I need a towel.”

He leans back in his desk chair and breathes harshly for a moment.

Then he grabs some tissues out of the box on his desk and cleans himself up. His hands are shaking a little.

He steps out of the attic a few minutes later, feeling slimy in more ways than one.

He plods to the bathroom, washes his hands, then heads back to his room to change into something less sweaty… among other things.

Then he sits back at his desk with his power points open, puts his hands on the keyboard, and stares at his screen. Just thinking. 

He hasn’t done this before. He’s never let himself think about Holster when he’s touching himself. After coming, it doesn’t feel nearly so good.

It feels like pushing boundaries.

He pushes himself back in his chair and runs hands over his head, groaning.

It’s been almost a year now. A year of pining after Holster, of compulsively bottling his feelings up. Of avoiding and compartmentalizing and restraining himself even when watching Holster fuck someone else. When fucking someone else with him.

He needs… god he just needs to talk to someone.

If there’s anyone to talk to about weird situations, it’s Shitty. His unmitigated chill might help calm him down a little.

He knocks on Shitty’s door a minute later, letting himself in at the “yup” from inside.

“Hey.” Shitty says, swiveling his desk chair out from behind his desk a bit. Surprisingly, he’s actually wearing boxers. Any form of willingly worn clothing is a surprise from Shitty.

“What’s up?” he asks, curling a finger through his stache.

Ransom closes the door behind him, and Shitty perks up. 

“Shit, must be serious if this is a door closed conversation.”

He gestures towards the bed.

“Sit down dude. Time for some schwasome half naked therapy.” 

Ransom obliges, opening his mouth to speak and stopping short.

Shitty steeples his hands below his chin, attentive.

“I’m bi.” Ransom blurts.

“Cool.” Shitty responds. Then, when Ransom doesn’t say anything else. “Is this a recent development?”

“No,” Ransom says, “no, I’ve known since high school.”

“Have you come out to anyone else?”

“Not on the team.” Ransom admits.

“Bro.” Shitty says, hand to heart. “I’m honored to be the first.” 

Then he hesitates a moment. “But why wasn’t Holster?”

Ransom lets out an explosive sigh.

“That's just the thing.” He says. “Uh, Holster is kind of..."

“The object of your more than bro-like affections?” Shitty guesses.

“...yeah.”

“I see.” Shitty says sagely.

Ransom runs his hand over his head again.

“I don’t know man, I just feel so fucking creepy sometimes. He trusts me, you know?”

Shitty’s gaze turns sharp and serious, though not unkind.

“Are you touching him without his consent?” He asks.

Ransom makes an incredulous noise of dissent, unable to even verbally say no because, no! Of course not! He opens his mouth to say as much, but Shitty holds up a finger.

“Are you making uncomfortably sexual comments? Touching yourself in front of him without his consent?”

“No!” Ransom says, perturbed he’s even asking.

“Then you’re fine.” Shitty says. “It’s normal to have a crush, it’s normal to look at your crush, to fantasize about them, to privately jack off thinking about them. You’re not hurting him, he doesn’t even know you’re doing it."

Shitty crosses his arms sagely.

“If you ask me, you’re dealing with a classic case of internalized homophobia. We deal with the “gay preadator” cliche so much in media that a lot of people internalize that shit. But it isn’t predatory to like someone, it’s just a normal part of being human.”

“I’ve had two threesomes with him.” Ransom blurts.

Shitty’s eyes widen. For all his usual calmness in the face of drama, Ransom knows he loves to be privy to information others aren’t.

He hums. “I kind of figured you had one with Molly, but there was another?”

Holster nods. “Twice. He has been unspeakably close to my dick. There’s no way I can ever come out to him. He’ll think I’m creepy as hell for not telling him.”

Shitty puts a placating hand on his shoulder. 

“He won’t think you’re creepy, man. That just really isn’t the kind of guy he is.”

“I can’t count the amount of times he has said “no homo” to me Shitty.”

Shitty winces a little.

“Not the best execution, but he’s probably just trying to assure you that you’re still bros.”

“I know we’re still bros, which is why I can never come out to him, because that will change our bro status.”

“Bro.” Shitty admonishes. “It wouldn’t.”

Then he seems to consider for a moment.

“I’m not going to force you to come out, because that’s your thing and it always should be, but you really should come out to Holster.”

Ransom tries to protest, but Shitty holds up a quelling hand.

“What if you get propositioned again?” He asks. “Will you be able to resist Holster’s puppy dog eyes this time?”

He’s very serious now, which is a good sign that Ransom should be listening well.

“It’s hard coming out, it’s harder coming out to someone you like, having to deal with the possibility that they might treat you differently. But if you’re worried about the moral issue surrounding consent that, while given freely, isn’t exactly 100% informed, you might want to tell him.”

Shitty sighs, waving his hand through the air.

“Like, obviously it’s ultimately your choice and the moral strain is pretty negligible since you’re not the kind of guy to disregard any of his boundaries or anything. But if you’re going to keep beating yourself up over it you should probably just bite the bullet and tell him already so you can see how much it won’t change things.”

Ransom sighs. “You’re probably right, but…”

The unfinished sentence hangs in the air between them, and Ransom knows Shitty knows he’s probably not going to take that particular piece of advice.

“It’s scary.” Shitty finishes for him, all too accurate. “Like I said, I’m not going to force you. Just think about it.”

He opens his arms wide, gesturing Ransom in.

“Now come on, time for a classic bro hug.”

——

His talk with Shitty doesn’t do much besides calm his nerves and ease his guilt. He doesn’t come out to Ransom.

The end of the year epikegster comes with little incident.

Ransom begins to think that maybe the threesomes were isolated events. A bold woman who gave a recommendation to her friend, with no other links. 

This year, while they’re packing up the attic together, they turn to look at each other and he could swear Holster starts to tear up.

“You know the drill bro.” he says, voice thick with emotion, arms out for a hug. “You better skype me every day.”

Ransom steps into the hug, the warmth he finds there suffusing itself through his body, the pressure mirrored by the squeezing in his chest. He buries his face in Holster’s shoulder, deepens the hug.

“You know I will.” he promises.

Holster burrows further into the hug. “I’m going to miss you.”

“We should hang out.” Ransom says. “Like, over the summer, I could drive out to see you.”

“Yeah?” Holster asks, leaning back out of the hug. 

“Yeah.” Ransom responds, resolutely. 

“Hell yeah!” Holster exclaims, face suddenly vibrant. “Lets set that shit up!”

Ransom is suddenly choking on words he can’t bring himself to spit out. An “I love you” on the back of his throat, hidden behind teeth, behind shock parted lips because, shit. This is love. He loves Holster.

He bites the words back ruthlessly.

“Just let me get my planner bro.”

——

They hang out over the summer and keep their promise to Skype every day. But when they get back to Samwell the reunion is still an epic display of bro love. 

Holster’s dad drove him and all his stuff to the Haus, but the moment Holster spots Ransom standing on the porch and talking to Jack he barely has time to wave to him before he’s launching himself out of the truck and towards him.

Jack starts violently and Ransom lets out an instinctive “oh shit” as Holster tackles him into a bear hug.

“Bro.” he says, with great emphasis.

“Bro.” Ransom responds, chuckling in spite of himself.

Holster’s dad walks up at a much more sedated pace, having already parked. 

“Hello Justin.” he says, eyes crinkled in amusement. Then turning to his son. 

“You saw him not two weeks ago.”

“Two weeks too many.” Holster responds seriously, already detangled from Ransom’s arms and looking back from the fist bump he was in the process of giving Jack.

His dad laughs. “Seems like it was.”

Privately, Ransom wholly agrees.

—-

He and Holster agree to do matching costumes again this year, which serves to solidify their broship on a profound level. Two years of matching Halloween costumes in a row is really nothing to scoff at.

The costumes themselves on the other hand… 

When Holster had first shown him the pictures of the firemen outfits, which are much skimpier than the genuine article, Ransom has just responded with a “...Bro.”

To which holster had insisted “think of the chicks.”

The pleading eyes Holster made were more effective than any hypothetical chick could be, and they ended up in the fireman costumes.

Holster wasn’t wrong, Ransom has gotten far more than a few appreciative glances in the outfit. The only problem is ever since he realized he’s in love with Holster he’s just been too hung up on him to hook up with anyone else. It’s not that he doesn’t find other people attractive still, the thought just makes him kind of guilty. Like he’s cheating. Even though Holster is still hooking up with people and they’re not, and never will be together. 

Hopefully he’ll be able to get over him enough to actually start fucking other people again, because his levels of sexual frustration are at near record high.

He’s shaken out of his inner monologue by the approach of two women exuding the same air of appreciation that many party guests have been shooting him through the night. 

One of the girls smiles as she approaches.

“Hey.” She says. “I’m Dana, and this is my girlfriend Ally.”

The tension minutely eases at that statement. He’s not going to have to turn anyone down. That’s a huge plus.

Dana pauses as Ransom introduces himself with a handshake that feels a little too formal for a man wearing approximately one fourth of a fireman’s outfit. 

There’s a moment of silence between them before Dana takes a deep breath and just launches into it.

“So my girlfriend and I are both bi, and we’ve been wanting to have a threesome with a guy, but she’s kind of conscientious of the fact that gay women are constantly fetishized by men. It’s been kind of hard figuring out how to find a way to have a threesome where we wouldn’t feel objectified,” she laughs, “so we just decided to try to find another couple to swing with. It’s been hard finding two bi guys in a couple that might be willing, but we hear you and your boyfriend have threesomes a lot.”

Ransom blinks, processes, and then blushes.

“You mean Holster? We aren’t a couple.” Ransoms gaze settles on him across the room before flitting back to her.

“Oh.” she says, looking between Ransom and across the room to Holster. Her gaze settles on Ransoms face. “Oh.” she says, with more significance now.

“You’ve got it bad.” Ally observes.

Ransom winces, unable to deny it.

“How could you tell?”

Ally places a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You’re wearing a couples costume and looking across the room at him with such intense longing that I’m not sure how you haven’t imploded.”

Ransom sighs, accepting that damning evidence for it’s irrefutable nature. “Please don’t tell him.”

“I would never,” she says, sounding insulted.

Holster catches his eye across the room and waves, Ransom waves back.

Ally gets a glint in her eye he doesn’t really like, but before he can say anything about it or take any preventative measures, Holster is sidling up to them.

“Hey.” He says. “Care to introduce me to these ladies?”

Ransom tenses. Before they had started having threesomes, sometimes one of them would end up talking to two girls, shamelessly plugging the other until their eyes caught across the room and he’d come to mingle. He was so distracted by Dana’s quick read that he didn’t give any indication that that wasn’t the case. He feels like he’s losing his game. Fuck.

Before he can introduce them with a pointed statement about them being a couple, Ally does it herself.

"I’m Ally, and this is my girlfriend Dana. We were actually just talking about you.” She smiles. “And your reputation.”

“Which one?” Holster responds cheekily.

“The kind that indicates you might be willing to swing with us.” She says, tone in kind.

“Swing as in…?” Holster trails off, obviously curious.

“A foursome.”

“Oh!” He says. “Yeah, I’m down.” He turns to Ransom, who smiles weakly. 

Holster doesn’t seem to notice.

“We have an apartment a few blocks away.” Dana says.

“With a nice, big king sized bed.” Ally adds, smirking.

Holster nods sagely.

“Good thinking, we’re big dudes.”

“Let’s hope so,” she leers. Holster and Ransom both snort at that.

——

“So.” Dana says, when they are all in the living room and she’s tossed her keys on the counter. “Before we do anything, fair warning that Ally is pretty dommy. She likes to control scenes and can be pretty pushy. Is that going to be a problem for either of you?”

“No.” Ransom responds. “Not at all.”

“Cool. We’re not into consent play of any sort so we don’t have a safeword, we just respect “stops” and “slow downs” and take them at face value, if you really want one we can use it, but you’ll still be expected to stop when someone tells you to."

“No problem.” Holster replies. ”We don’t need one either.”

“Cool.” Dana enthuses. “Anything you want to get off your chest beforehand?”

They’re both silent and after it stretches on for a long moment, Ally nods decisively.

“Bedroom.” She says, walking in what must presumably be that direction without even checking that they’re following.

Dana is quick on her heels, and after a fortifying glance between themselves Ransom and Holster follow too.

When they get to the room Dana is in the process of straddling Ally’s lap, both on the edge of the bed.

“Hi baby.” Ally says, smiling up at her as she leans down to kiss her.

Her hand rubs up her thigh to squeeze there, and Holster quite obviously tilts his head to get a better look. Ally rucks Dana’s dress up a bit, and the outline of her hand on Dana’s ass is clearly visible underneath.

They break for air and Ally murmurs something in Dana’s ear. Dana nods enthusiastically.

Ally grins and her hand moves under Dana’s dress, she flips her over and pulls her underwear out and off as they go, tossing it away.

“Justin.” She says, gesturing him forward without looking behind her. “Come here and eat my girlfriend out.” 

Then. “Adam.”

Holster perks up at the sound of his name.

“You can watch for now.”

She grins cheekily as Holster pouts at the sideline, but doesn’t protest. Still, Ransom is amazed that she isn’t looking even the slightest bit guilty.

It might be that he's more susceptible than most to Holster’s pouting though.

Ransom starts to make his way over to them, but before he gets far Ally holds up a hand. 

“Take off the jacket first.”

“You don’t like it?” Holster pouts from the corner.

“I don’t like the sound it makes when he moves.” Ally says, crinkling her nose. 

She gestures to his torso as he bares it, stripping off the jacket.

“I do, however, like that.”

Holster sighs dramatically.

“I guess I can't fault you for that. He does have a pretty bangin’ bod.”

“Bro.” He responds, grinning. “You’re gonna make me blush.”

Ally stifles a snicker at their antics.

Ransom plucks the suspenders off his shoulders and lets them fall to his hips.

“It's like you read my mind.” Ally teases.

Ransom grins, dropping to his knees at the foot of the bed and looking up at Dana, silently asking permission. She nods, and he rucks her skirt the rest of the way up to get a look at her. 

Her pubic hair is cropped short, curly, and already glistening a little bit with her slick. 

He slides his hand up her thigh, feeling the smooth, soft skin there. 

Stopping at the soft area where thigh meets pelvis, he extends his thumb to caress her slit. She sighs, a contented noise, and he presses his thumb further past her lips, nudging her clit.

“Oh.” She sighs. Ally sidles up behind her, whispering something in her ear. Dana smiles at whatever she’s saying. It's a lazy, half lidded smile. Ally’s hand bumps against his as she reaches down and pulls Dana’s dress the rest of the way off over her head. 

Her bra is basically just fancy underwire, which probably isn't all too comfortable, but it frames her breasts nicely, and Ally cups them in her hands, thumbing over the nipple.

“I’m starting to feel a little left out here.” Holster pouts, still fidgeting in the corner. The booty shorts don't do much to hide his erection. 

“You don't like the show?” Ally asks, almost innocent as she pinches Dana’s nipple and pulls, eliciting a small gasp, an arch of her back. 

“Would prefer to be a part of it.” Holster admits.

“Well, if you’re a good boy and you do what I tell you you’ll be a part of this soon enough.”

The beginnings of a whine crawls out of Holster’s throat, but it’s gone as soon as it came, and he doesn't comment further.

Ransom is still rubbing his thumb in slow circles over Dana’s clit. When he trails it down through her folds, it comes back slick with her arousal.

He can faintly hear Dana’s low voice as she speaks to Ally. “you’re having too much fun torturing that boy.”

Then his head is fully between her thighs. He smells her musk, powerful with her arousal. He remembers that he _ likes _this. Likes women just as much as men, likes fucking even if he isn’t in love with someone. He likes the feeling of Holster’s gaze on him, intense and fixated, just a little bit more though.

“Fuck.” Dana moans as he licks swirling patterns between her labia. 

He works his way up, then mouths at her clit, bottom lip brushing over, then tongue flicking out to tease.

“God.” Dana moans. “Oh wow.”

He barely suppresses a smile, trying to focus on the task at hand, sealing his lips over her clit and sucking lightly.

She moans, and from where Holster is standing her hears a “fuck that’s hot.”

He knows, objectively, that Holster is talking about Dana, the sight she makes spread out and moaning. But by some degree of separation, he’s responsible for the sight she’s making, the flush in her skin, the o of her mouth as it hangs open.

By some degree, he’s putting on a show for Holster.

He shifts, adjusting himself in the shorts, then bringing his hand back up to thumb against her labia again as he works her clit. 

Her moans become muffled, and he opens his eyes and looks up to see Ally is kissing her, one hand rolling a nipple between thumb and forefinger, the other looping around to gently rest against her neck.

He sinks a finger into her, finds her relaxed and pliant, and adds a second, crooking them up to rub against her upper wall. He grabs her thigh with his other hand, partly to steady himself and partly so he doesn’t shove it down his shorts, he can’t effectively multitask like that. 

Her thigh is shaking under his hand. He adds a third finger and sucks harder. Her moans get louder. 

“Fuck you’re gonna come already, aren’t you baby?” Ally asks, voice breathy and wonderful.

“God.” Dana moans. “Fuck.”

Her breath comes out harsh and stuttering and Ransom can feel her pussy pulsing around his fingers as she comes, stuttering out a moan that’s half swallowed up, presumably by Ally.

Her thighs clench around her head, but he just works her through it until they release him and he can actually breathe again, dizzy but self satisfied.

His first instinct is to turn to Holster. For what, he doesn’t know. Some sort of approval, praise maybe?

Holster looks wrecked, for lack of better word. He’s flushed, staring straight at Ransom. There’s this wholly unreadable expression on his face. 

Ransom spares a moment of consideration for how he must look, lips spit and arousal slick and parted obscenely. He feels himself flush at the mental image, turns to look up at Ally to take some of the awkwardness out of himself.

She smiles at him, then turns to Holster. 

“Justin got her warmed up, now I want you to fuck her.”

Then she turns to Ransom. 

“Now it’s my turn, she has me curious about what that beautiful mouth can do.”

Ransom smiles, feeling a little less off kilter at the request and implied praise. This he knows well. This he can do well.

—-

Ally yawns loudly, and Dana bustles up out of bed and to the bathroom. She comes back with a wet washcloth she tosses to Ally, who catches it effortlessly.

Then she rustles through her drawer and tosses on a big T-shirt and some underwear. 

“You should probably put some clothes on.” Ally chuckles. “Dana’s in aftercare mode and she’s probably going to kick you two out soon.”

Ransom huffs out a laugh. “Thanks for the warning.”

“You saw where the bathroom was, go ahead and clean up if you want to, Just toss your washcloths in the hamper when you’re done.” She yawns again, turning over and curling into the comforter.

It’s kind of nice, being a part of their little slice of domesticity. Even if he is evidently seconds away from being kicked out.

He and Holster both climb out of the bed.

“I’ll find the clothes.” Holster says. “You go wash up first.”

“Thanks.” He says, grabbing his underwear and heading for the bathroom.

When he gets back, there’s a glass of water on Ally’s bedside, and Dana hands him a bottle of it. 

Holster has his own bottle, along with all their clothes. 

“I think you grabbed the wrong underwear.” He says, eyes drifting down to the boxer briefs in question.

Ransom follows his gaze and flushes. He’s right. Shit.

“Do you want to…?” He trails off.

“Nah, i'll just wear yours.” He grins, clapping him on the shoulder.

Dana gives him a wolffish smile as he tugs his jeans on.

“Sharing bedmates _ and _underwear? How very coupley.”

“I thought Ally was the teasing one.” Ransom complains.

Dana shrugs. “She’s asleep, I’m just doing what she would want to do if she were conscious.”

Ransom pulls his ridiculous jacket on, snorting a laugh at her antics. 

“We may share clothes, but I think sharing personalities is a little out there.”

Dana sniffs. “You call it weird, I call it exemplary aftercare.”

He pulls a sock on, but there isn’t a second.

“Where’s my other sock?”

“Yeah, sorry man. It’s probably in the void by now.” Holster says, emerging from the bathroom, fully dressed now. “I couldn’t find it.”

Ransom sighs and resigns himself to his lopsided sock fate.

“That’s fine bro,” he says, putting his hand on Holsters shoulder, “You did everything you could.”

“The patient was too far gone.”

“It’s alright, this is how he would have wanted to go.”

“Oh, so you two are in love love, huh?” Dana asks.

Ransom shoots her a look of panic, but Holster just smiles.

“It’s a bromance for the ages.”

“I can see that.” She snickers. “Anyways, I’m calling you an uber, you can continue your bromance in the car. It’ll be here in three.”

She ushers then to the front door, where they slip their shoes on and she loads them into the car.

“You two have a good one.” She says. Then closes the door.

They probably both look rumpled as hell, they hadn’t exactly had time to clean themselves up much. Not to mention their definitely stripper-like costumes. The Uber driver gives them a knowing look in the rearview.

Ransom just smiles back sheepishly.

——

Ally texts Ransom not long after the foursome. The conversation basically boils down to her telling him to go for it with Holster, Ransom desperately trying to explain to her that Holster is straight, and her seemingly disregarding that notion as completely untrue. 

After the initial disagreement though, he actually builds a bit of a rapport with her and manages to get their conversations about Holster down to about a quarter overall. The rest is just sharing memes, many of which are about being bisexual.

It’s kind of nice being out to another bisexual person. Ally gets it in a way Shitty doesn’t, for all that he’s basically the most supportive person on earth.

\----

Winter screw comes around, as usual, after finals and directly before everyone heads home for winter break. Ransom just had a two hour long calculus two final and his brain is deep fried in integral and series batter. 

The party should be exactly what he needs to get himself to calm down. He knows his results won't be coming out for a while now, but his brain has been in panic mode for weeks and he just… really needs an outlet.

He makes a promise to himself. This is the party where he is finally going to get laid. Not counting the foursome, this will be the first time since he realized he was in love with Holster. Hell, even before then, when he thought it was just a really intense crush… lets just say it’s been a while.

But sex is good. It releases serotonin and oxytocin, both of which are currently in short supply in his brain. 

His final lets out a little late, and he’s desperately hungry afterwards, so he goes out to get some food and then crashes into a cat nap at the Haus directly afterwards. Apparently no one had the heart to wake him up, because by the time he wakes up again the bass is thumping throughout the house. 

“Shit.” he mumbles, mouth dry and nasty tasting.

He palms around for his phone and checks the time. Almost eleven thirty, the party should be in full swing now, but he probably hasn't exactly missed much.

He sighs in relief and goes to quickly brush his teeth before heading downstairs. 

He keeps an eye out for anyone that might be both his type and receptive to his advances. Instead, midway through a sweep of the room, his eyes land on a familiar head of blond hair. 

Holster is chatting up a pretty girl, his back to him. She obviously notices him staring, because she catches his eye and winks.

He squints at that. Her eyes crinkle in amusement. Holster doesn’t seem to notice.

Then she gestures to Ransom and Holster eagerly turns around and waves him over with a smile.

He knows exactly what this is about.

He walks over anyways.

“Hey.” He greets.

“Hey bro!” Holster says. “This is Nadia. She’s Ally’s friend.”

He winks.

Nadia seems amused by this.

“This is not the reputation I imagined having in college.”

Nadia laughs.

“The cards we’re dealt, right?” She says.

Ransom isn’t entirely sure what that's supposed to mean, but he nods anyways.

“So.” She says, without the slightest bit of preamble, eyes twinkling. “My place?”

Ransom almost considers saying no, finding someone else. Having sex with just one person instead of dancing around Holster.

But at this point, he’s kind of addicted to this. He can feel the weight of Holsters expectant state on him, though he doesn’t turn to look.

“Yeah.” He says, a few beats too late to be natural. “Your place.”

——

Not twenty minutes later, she’s ushering them into her studio apartment, closing the door behind them, and practically tackling Holster to the couch.

“Oh shit.” He says, clearly startled as he easily goes down.

His back hits the backrest, knocking a little “oof” out of him. Nadia settles into his lap, not even hesitating as she begins to make out with him.

Ransom stands awkwardly in the doorway. He thinks he’s probably supposed to join in somehow. But he doesn’t know how he should and he doesn’t really have a problem with watching anyways. Not when he can see a flush rising in Holsters cheeks and Nadia begins to roll her hips into him. 

Observing this close, watching without even the slightest attempt to busy himself otherwise or look away, he can see the way Holster’s hand hovers uncertainly over her hip before it drops down to rest there. She feels his confident grip, he sees the hesitation.

She dips her head down to kiss Holsters neck and he throws his head back, hand edging up her shirt towards the middle of her back. 

His eyes open and meet Ransom’s, half lidded in pleasure, mouth parted. He doesn’t break eye contact.

Nadia straightens up, blocking his view. 

Then she turns, climbing up out of Holster’s lap to face him. 

“You like to watch?” She asks, leaning in and beginning to unbutton his shirt. She leans in further to whisper in his ear. “Me too.”

She finishes the unbuttoning and pushes the shirt off his shoulders, smoothing her hand up over his chest, then snaking them around to rest on his waist. 

She presses her lips to his, parts them, sucks his bottom lip into her mouth. He feels her hand smoothing up and down his side, gentle and warm. Her tongue slips into his mouth, and he starts sucking on it. 

She pulls it back, smiling into their kiss, wide enough that they have to break apart.

“I want to watch.”

“Watch what?” Ransom asks, somewhat breathless.

She pulls back further, putting Holster in his line of sight again. He looks attentive, enthralled.

“I want to watch him—“she gestures to Holster—“suck your dick.”

Ransom freezes, eyes still half on Holster, who looks startled as well. He focuses back on Nadia.

“We’re not—“ Ransom begins, turning desperately back from her to Holster, seeking some kind of support. Some fervent denial. 

Surprise runs through him when he sees what Holster’s expression has morphed into. He recognizes the consideration in his gaze. 

Mentally, he curses Ally. He just knows this is her fault.

“Well.” Holster begins. “As long as you reciprocate.” 

Then he shrugs. Like it’s that simple.

Ransoms look of horror must show pretty clearly, because Holster has an unreadable expression now, something unpleasant, for sure. A blush dusts his cheeks now.

“I mean, no homo, but—“

“I’m bi.” Ransom blurts. He kind of immediately regrets it, hands slapping over his mouth. But he’s also kind of instantly relieved. 

“Oh.” Holster says. “A little bit homo then.”

There’s that shrug again.

“What?” Ransom asks, taken aback. “You still want to…”

“I mean, yeah, if you do.”

Nadia’s gaze has been ping ponging between them, but she speaks up now. 

“It was just a suggestion.” She says. “I’m not going to make you do something you’re uncomfortable with.”

“I’m not going to either.” Holster supplements. 

Then they’re both looking at him, and Ransom is wondering how in fuck’s name he’s gotten himself into this situation. How he’s gotten himself into similar situations three times prior.

He sighs.

He’s pinned between their gazes; the initial shock is fading now. He thinks; well, fuck it, this is probably the only chance he is ever going to get with Holster. He resolutely doesn’t think any further past that.

“Yeah, let’s do this. Just promise it won’t make things weird.” 

The statement is as much for himself as it is for Holster. He doesn’t want to be thinking about the feeling of Holster’s mouth on his dick every time he looks at it. Which he tends to do a lot nowadays.

“I promise.” Holster says solemnly. It, at least, is a comfort.

“We should do this on the bed.” Nadia says, jerking her head in that direction.

She catches him by the arm on his way to the bed. “Strip first. And make it sexy.” She winks.

“Ok.” He says, grinning at her.

He’s already shirtless, so he pops the button of his jeans open with a flourish and does his best to shimmy out of them sexily. 

She claps for him when he kicks them off and away.

“Good job.” Then she reaches over to the waistband of his underwear and pushes it down and off. 

He kicks them off as well and she grabs a firm handful of his ass. 

“Oh that’s a quality ass right there.” she groans. “Turn around, let me see.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he grins, complying.

She grabs two handfuls this time.

“I have a nice ass too.” Holster pouts, from his position on the couch.

“One at a time darling.” she replies. 

She steps up onto her toes to whisper in his ear, hand still on his ass, but gentler now.

“Maybe we should clean you up, have Holster eat you out instead.”

He shivers at that. Fuck, he’s down for either, but with her whispering in his ear like that it all seems so much more intense.

She backs away and gives him a gentle slap on the ass.

“Go sit on the bed now.”

He does, almost disappointed. That is, until he’s sitting on the bed, naked, dick hard, looking Holster in the eye and knowing he’s about to suck his dick.

Nadia doesn’t have to say anything, Holster just walks from the couch to stand in front of Ransom, then drops to his knees.

The look on his face is intense, but he can’t read much beyond that. His face is flushed too, he’s obviously embarrassed, but he’s determined too. Ransom’s gaze trails down his body. He’s hard too. He tries not to read too much into it.

The hand that reaches forward to grasp the base of his cock is tentative, but it’s grip is firm. His thigh muscle twitches minutely, and he’s so absorbed watching Holster, who’s focusing intently on the task at hand now and blushing profusely, beautifully, that he doesn’t notice Nadia moving until she sidles up behind him.

Her skin brushes his and he starts at the sensation. But she just positions herself behind him, resting her chin on his shoulder.

“Front row seats.” she comments, smiling.

He nods, not trusting his vocal cords to work right now.

Holster has withdrawn his palm. Evidently he was spitting into it, because when it returns its slick with saliva. It strokes over him.

“Fuck.”

He barely registers the word, but he feels it leave his mouth. Holster is barely even doing anything. And yet.

He strokes harder and Ransom bites his lip. Gaining confidence, that doesn’t bode well for his heart.

This proves to be unequivocally true as Holster latches his mouth around the head of his cock and begins to suck, his tongue stroking in tandem with the slow and steady pulsing suction.

“Ohhh.” Ransom moans, leaning back into Nadia’s embrace. She supports his weight without a clear struggle, which is impressive.

The warmth of arousal is already building from a steady thrum to a demanding buzz. His hands flex, he bites his lip, struggles to control his reactions. 

Fuck, he’s good at that though. He opens his mouth, takes Ransom down. Ransom can feel the tip of Holster’s tongue, then the base, the wet pressure and bumps of his taste buds lighting his nerves up. The head of his cock hits the entrance to Holster’s throat and begins to push past. They both choke in sync, Holster withdraws, but not without a generous trail of spit connecting his mouth to Ransom’s cock. 

His lips are plump and red and shiny with saliva, and he looks at the trail with fascination for a moment before breaking it with his hand and depositing the excess saliva on Ransom’s cock. He gives it an unfairly, obscenely slick pump, and Ransom lets out a choked moan.

“That never happens when I eat pussy.” Holster says, withdrawing his hand to look at the slick coating of saliva.

“You still salivate, you’re just not collecting it all direct from the source.” Nadia notes, and the rumble of her chest against Ransom’s back makes him shiver. 

Holster shrugs and resumes pumping his dick, pace tortuously slow.

“Can you…” Ransom begins, trying to think of a polite way to tell him to get him the fuck off already before he comes from an emberassingly small amount of stimulation.

Holster seems to understand. Or at least sess the nature of his request, because he begins to lean in to put his mouth on Ransom’s dick again. He pauses before he gets there.

“Mess with my hair. You can pull it.” he adds, almost as an afterthought before swallowing Ransom down as far as he can get him.

“Fuck!” Ransom exclaims, not loud at all, just breathy and impassioned.

Holster gags slightly and slides back.

Ransom buries his hand in Holster’s hair, partly because Holster wants him to and partly because he really needs something to do with his hands now.

Nadia is rubbing soothing circles on his back, and at this point any skin on skin contact is positive stimuli, so his nerves are alight. She begins to murmur encouragements in his ear that he isn’t paying attention to enough to hear much other than “good.”

He wholly echoes the statement, because, sweet jesus mother of fuck he never thought for an instant he would be getting the best head in his life from the man he loves. It’s not even like Holster is extraordinarily skilled, he’s just enthusiastic and he has a fucking vaccum where his mouth should be. 

And Ransom is really, really in love with him.

His thighs are trembling now, he’s tensing, close to the edge.

“I’m gonna--” he begins, cut off by his own moan, the loss of the thought to pleasure.

Holster takes him down further, making an obscene, guttural noise in the back of his throat. Then he pulls back, puts a hand around the base of his cock, pumps and sucks on the head simultaneously.

“Fuck.” Ransom pants.

Nadia reaches around and tugs on his nipple, still murmuring encouragements in his ear, and he gasps. 

His hand tightens in Holsters hair, and he bites his lip hard as he comes, breath shuddering out of him.

Holster strokes him through his orgasm, and when he’s ridden the cresting waves of pleasure through he opens his eyes and moans out a “enough.”

Holster pulls off, making a face as he swallows, then opens his mouth and lets the rest of Ransom’s come slide out of his mouth and into his palm.

“Ough.” he says. “I think that’s an acquired taste.”

Then he actively spits the rest of the come into his palm. He stares at his palm a moment.

“Uh.” he says, looking up at Nadia. “Where..”

She snorts a laugh, gesturing towards the open kitchen. “Just go put it in the sink.”

Holster gets up, groaning as his knees adjust. 

“And take your pants off while you’re up, Ransom promised to reciprocate.”

Ransom tenses at that, but when he turns back to look at her she just winks and motions for him to get on the floor.

He does.

—-

A few months later, after winter break has ended and spring semester is in full swing, Ransom is on his bed doing his O-Chem homework when he sees Holster hovering out of the corner of his eye.

“Hey.” He says, closing his textbook. 

“Hey.” Holster replies, looking shifty.

“What… what’s up?” He says, kind of at a loss.

Holster sighs, almost explosive, and sits on the bed. 

“How did you know?” He asks.

“How did I know what?”

“That you were bi.”

“Oh.” Ransom says, blushing now. “I… uh…”

“Sorry.” Holster says. “Sorry, I know it’s kind of a stupid question, it’s just, ever since you came out to me I’ve been thinking.”

Ransoms heart sinks, immediately drawing the worst conclusions.

“Oh.” He says, not sure if he was able to keep the hurt and worry out of his voice, unable to stop the sound from punching out of his gut.

“I think I might be too.”

“What?” He says, knowing he heard right but unsure he believes his own damn ears. “How…?”

He doesn’t even know what he was going to ask, has no clue how to frame the huge question mark currently floating in his head to get a satisfying answer. He hopes Holster can give him one regardless.

Holster is blushing hard now, avoiding eye contact.

“I mean, I never really thought about it? I never examined my sexuality because I’ve always liked girls and never really felt like I had to examine it too much.Then we… you know--” he blushes harder “--and I kind of had to think about it.”

Ransom sighs explosively, leaning back in his bed. 

“So.” He says. “What did you find out?”

“I.. I liked what we did.” He says, face still bright red. “And I mean… I know I kept saying no homo all the time, but I don’t know, I think that was probably my way of not having to examine the bisexuality of it all.”

And i'm sorry, by the way.” he adds. “If that ever made you uncomfortable.”

“It’s fine.” Ransom replies, easily waving it off. “I was honestly more worried about making you uncomfortable.”

“Why?” Holster asks, genuinely confused.

“I mean, I hadn’t come out to you. We were in some… kind of homoerotic situations. I was worried that you wouldn’t have been as willing to get in them if you knew I was bi. I was worried that if I told you I would make things weird. Hell, I feel like it was a miracle they never got weird regardless.”

“Bro.” Holster says. “No matter how weird we get, things will never be weird between us.”

“Bro.” Ransom says, emotion straining his voice.

The moment is almost as funny as it is touching, as they bro hug it out on his bed. But it feels right, feels like them.

——

Spring forward, throw it back is going to become a tradition of the Haus if it’s the last thing they do.

That’s where they find themselves, debating over who’s going to take the captaincy for approximately the fifty thousandth time this year.

“Bro, you’re the backbone of this team.” Holster argues.

“Dude, you know that’s Bitty.” Ransom shoots back. “You don’t see me making any pies.”

“Point.” Holster concedes. “Still think you’re going to win, but I’ve gotta take a whiz, see you in a minute.”

Ransom waves him off, losing himself in his beer rather than trying to find someone else to talk to. He’s given up on the whole “get over Holster by hooking up with someone else” thing, He knows it’ll never work. A love of Holster has practically written itself into his DNA at this point. It’s not going away, ever.

He’s jarred out of his thoughts by the approach of a pretty, petite woman with short cropped pink hair and a vibrantly enthusiastic smile he can’t help but return.

“Hey,” she says, “Justin, right?”

He gives her a subtle once over. He may not be actively seeking out a hook up, or overtly trying to get over Holster, but he won’t turn her down.

“Yeah,” he responds. “And you?”

“Zoe.” she says, not reacting as a twinky looking dude with a mess of curly hair sidles up behind her and hands her a drink. His arm muscles flex as he does so. Twunk then.

Ransom gives them both a skeptical eye, wondering what she’s doing here now that it’s evident she has a boyfriend. 

She smiles up at the guy, giving him a quick peck on the lips in evident thanks for the drink.

Then she looks at Ransom and winks. 

Ah. So that’s how it is. 

Holster sidles up next to him, grinning at the couple.

“Hey.” He says, to them. 

Then turning to Ransom: “what’s up?”

Zoe answers before he can.

“We were just introducing ourselves.” She says, somehow managing to sound enthusiastic about it. “I’m Zoe.”

“I’m Leo.” Her boyfriend adds, with a little wave and wry smile.

“Cool.” Holster says. “I’m Adam.”

“We figured.” Zoe says.

“Hockey fans?” Ransom asks, already knowing that’s not why they’re here.

“Among other things.” Zoe chirps. In both senses of the word, Ransom notes.

“We’re friends of Ally’s.” Leo adds and hell, that’s practically a euphemism for “we’re trying to bang you two” at this point.

Holster’s eyes widen, and he gives the couple a distinctly unsubtle once over. 

Leo steps out from behind Zoe enough to be more visible. 

“Yeah?” Holster asks, after a prolonged moment of crackling tension, looking Leo dead in the eye.

A spark of jealously ignites in Ransom, almost startling him with it’s intensity. 

He’s always been jealous when Holster is obviously about to hook up with someone, especially when it isn’t a threesome. Usually that jealousy is quelled by the knowledge that at least he’ll be there.

It’s different seeing Holster flirt with a guy, though. There’s a whole new world of hurt in knowing that it isn’t just a simple matter of sexuality, but a lack of personal attraction.

“We shop at the same furniture store as Ally too, we have a nice California King.” Leo says, smirking.

Zoe snickers, and his grin widens. Holster snorts.

Ransom can’t help but huff out a laugh along with them, and they all dissolve into snickers for a few moments.

“Seriously, seriously though.” Zoe says, through chuckles. “We were wondering if you would want to join us tonight.”

She says this to Ransom, seeming to be actively excluding Holster from the statement. Ransom frowns a bit.

“I’m bi.” Leo adds. Then jerks a thumb towards Zoe. “She is too, but we already had a threesome with Nadia and now we’re looking for another bi guy to join us.”

Leo’s gaze flicks to Holster hopefully, clearly having noticed the once over he gave him.

“I’m bi too.” Holster says, grinning.

“Oh?” Leo responds, clearly enthused at the development. “You thinking about joining us too?”

“Maybe.” Holster responds, cheekily.

Ransom doesn’t like the looks they’re giving each other, the tension between them. 

It wasn’t a problem when he felt that tension between Holster and the girls they’ve been with, but this hurts. 

He should back out, turn them down, say something so that he doesn’t have to keep watching those two eyefuck. Or god forbid, watch them actually fuck.

Instead, when he opens his mouth, a particularly strong moment of self flagellation of some sort must overcome him, because he just says: “so, your place?”

\----

Ransom is going through the motions, kissing Zoe even though his heart isn’t really in it, he’s too focused on keeping track of Leo and Holster. His eyes are closed in the kiss, but he’s listening intently to the sounds they’re making. He hears Leo ask Holster if this is his first time with a guy, then Holster responding no. 

Then Zoe is pulling his attention to her by pulling away from the kiss.

“You seem distracted.” she says, then she tracks his gaze to Holster and Leo, and realization dawns.

“Oh.” she says. She doesn’t elaborate, doesn’t need to. But still, Ransom can’t pull his gaze away from Holster and Leo.

Holster’s gaze locks on his for a moment, over Leo’s shoulder as he kisses his neck, then Leo does something that has it flickering back.

Ransom winces.

“Honey,” Zoe says, “we don’t have to do this.”

Ransom painstakingly tears his gaze away from Holster to look at her. “But I want to.” He says, and it’s true. As much as it hurts to see visual proof of how he’s been passed over, it would be ten times worse to let his imagination paint the picture for him.

Zoe nods in acceptance. “I’m going to let you set your own pace in case you decide to back out. I’m going to join them, but just know you can touch either one of us, I know for a fact Leo has a massive crush on you and would love it.”

She backs away from Ransom, smiling comfortingly as she goes to wrap her arms around her boyfriends middle and kiss his upper back.

He watches them for a while, watches Leo push Holster back to the bed, unzip Holster’s pants, pull them off, get on his knees, take his dick in his mouth. He watches Holster flush, and grab Leo’s hair, and squirm, watches Holster’s elbows give out, he falls flat on his back on the bed.

Zoe turns to look at Ransom and mouths what seems to be the words “join us” then strips her underwear off under her skirt and climbs up onto the bed to straddle Holster’s face. He grabs her thighs greedily, pulling her towards him. They’re beautiful together, all three of them. 

And after a moment, he’s just… been forgotten.

He leaves, opening and closing the door as silently as possible, calling himself an Uber, and going straight to the Haus.

He gets a text from Holster not long after asking where he is.

**Ransom:**

Not feeling well, didn’t want to interrupt you guys

When Holster gets back, about thirty minutes after he had, he pretends to be asleep. But really, he’s replaying the image of Holster’s eyes sliding away from his over Leo’s shoulder again and again until he falls into a fitful sleep.

——

Ransom concludes, with a finality, that he really, really needs to get over Holster. Unfortunately, it’s hard to get over someone you’re practically conjoined at the hip with.

He starts spending more time with Shitty, Lardo, Jack, and Bitty. He spends less and less time with Holster.

He turns down offers to get food, spends less time in the attic, turns down a study date even though he knows that studying with Holster always makes it just a little less stressful.

He endures the weird looks that turn to hurt looks that turn to no looks at all.

It hurts, it hurts so fucking much. But he knows the only thing that hurts more than this is being with Holster, being in love with Holster and watching him pass him over again and again.

Months pass like this, it gets to the point where the tension between them is so thick that Ransom can’t stand to be in the same room as him for more than fifteen minutes.

Every time he leaves a room with a flimsy excuse, avoids Holster’s eyes, avoids Holster in general, he can feel his disappointment grow.

The only place they can connect anymore is on the ice. It’s like everything melts away when they’re out there, working together. The only time they even touch each other anymore is during cellys. 

That’s the only reason Shitty, Lardo, and Bitty let the weird behavior go without any interference beyond the typical relentless pestering to do something.

When Ransom tells Shitty the reason he’s avoiding Holster the disappointed look he gives him is monumental. 

“I really don’t think this is the best route. He’s your best friend, and this is really hurting him.”

Ransom flinches at that, but he’s too much of a coward to say anything to Holster, because he knows exactly how it would go.

Besides, they’re too far along at that point. Things are better this way.

At the end of the year, they’re announced as co-captains and for the first time in months, they hug off the ice.

The euphoria of the moment, of sharing something again when they didn’t think they would, it’s a lot.

Holster leans back from the hug first, smiling at him.

“I missed you.” Holster says.

When they’re packing up the last of their things to leave, Holster turns to him and says, resolutely: “skype me.”

The same thing he’s said at the end of every school year. Only this time, Ransom doesn’t intend to comply.

Maybe not seeing his face every day for a few months will help a little.

\----

After a few days of Ransom not Skyping Holster, he gets a text. 

**Holtzy:**

Saw a weird dog today.

The next text is a picture of a possum on a leash.

He can’t help it, he texts back.

**Ransom:**

WTF bro, who keeps possums as a pet??

**Holtzy:**

IDK man, but it’s kinda cute

They don’t exactly text every day after that, but he gets spastically spaced texts from Holster whenever something interesting happens, and he always replies.

He misses him, a lot. But Holster never pushes to skype, or for a visit like they had last summer.

For that, Ransom is almost grateful. 

Almost.

\-----

Ransom is one of the last people to arrive at the Haus, the day of the welcome home party.

He arrives early in the morning, gets practically tackled into a bear hug by Holster, which he stiffly accepts. 

When Holster pulls back, his smile is stiffer.

“It’s good to see you man.” He says.

“Yeah.” Ransom responds, and it’s true. But it hurts too, knowing he’s hurting Holster by pushing him away.

\------

Without Shitty attending anymore, and with Ransom just having got there and having no part in it’s organization, the welcome back party is much more lowkey than it usually is.

That isn’t to say that there isn’t a decent turnout--there is--there’s just less people than usual. 

Someone brought cards against humanity and an unmanageably large game is being played on the kitchen counter, a novelty that Bitty eyes with disdain.

“What’s up Bits?” Ransom asks.

He scoffs. 

“Three separate people have spilled beer all over my counters.” He gripes. “And now they’re playing cards on the undoubtedly sticky surface.”

He sighs and rubs a hand through his hair. 

“I can’t keep looking at this, I need a stiff drink and a distraction.” He gestures up the stairs.

“I saw Lardo and Holster go up with a couple other people and a few bottles not long ago, want to see what they’re up to?”

“Yeah.” Ransom says. “Sure.”

They weave around a couple people chatting on the stairs and head up to Lardo’s room.

Ransom skids to a halt in front of the open door, with a full, unfettered view of Holster sitting on the floor and leaning over to make out with a girl he doesn’t recognize. Bitty bumps into him at the sudden stop. 

He can’t move though, he’s frozen in place, paralyzed by the sight until the couple finally breaks apart to wolf whistles and laughter. Ransom belatedly notices the rest of the circle they’re sitting in, the bottle in the middle.

He shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts, and Bitty gives him a weird look from his place where he’s moved up to stand by his side.

“You okay?” He asks.

“I’m fine.” Ransom responds, moving into the room.

“Ransom!” Lardo enthuses. “Come in, we’re playing spin the bottle.”

“Y’know, this is how mono spreads.” Bitty chirps, smiling.

“Don’t be a party pooper.” Lardo laughs. “Come kiss your teammates and or some random theater kids.”

Theatre majors, Ransom should have guessed. They’re always the ones who are down for this kind of shit.

Bitty slides into place next to Lardo, and Ransom slides into the spot Holster is patting invitingly, already dreading what’ll come a little.

The girl Holster just finished kissing grabs the bottle and spins. He stares into it’s center and it blurs a little at first, making multiple rotations and coming to a stop in front of Bitty.

He obliges, but much more chastely than Holster had.

It’s a bit of a big group, ten people, now that Ransom and Bitty have joined. 

Bitty lands on a theatre guy, who looks happy about the development. He’s cute, but Bitty doesn’t seem all too interested. 

Ransom would be a little more attentive about this development, but he can’t focus on much other than the feeling of Holster beside him, the heat of his arm brushing against him. Of making sure not to look at him.

The game goes on for a few more rounds before the same girl from earlier lands on Holster again.

“It must be fate.” She says, through a laugh. 

Ransom winces.

Holster just smiles and leans in to kiss her, open mouth and unreserved, soliciting more wolf whistles from the group.

Ransom looks away after a few seconds, his gaze landing on Bitty across from him, who gives him a strange look.

He doesn’t know what his face looks like right now, but he forces it blank and looks to the floor instead. He can still feel Holster’s heat at his side, the minute movements he makes as he kisses the girl. He feels it when Holster leans back, returning to his place next to him. He feels Holster lean over, his arm flexing as he spins the bottle.

In his eyeline, he sees the bottle come to a stop in front of him.

The world follows suit. For one breathless moment, he’s frozen in time, shock stilling his muscles and widening his eyes.

Then time starts up again.

Holster looks at him, smiling.

“Pucker up buttercup.” He teases, wiggling his eyebrows and leaning over. 

But Ransom is frozen, still stock still. Because he hadn’t even realized until now that they’ve never kissed before. He’s had his mouth on his dick but somehow they’ve never even kissed. And Holster is still leaning in and he’s leaning back and—“I can’t do this.”

“What?” Holster asks. “What's wrong?”

“I’m in love with you.” Ransom blurts out, and it’s such a weight off his chest, an unrivaled relief, that he can’t feel the panic that was crawling up his spine seconds ago anymore. 

“Oh.” Holster breathes out. Expression open, soft, shocked.

“Alright, its time to go now kiddos.” Lardo announces, very firmly, to the rest of the room. Lardo and Bitty are herding everyone out of the room now, but Ransom doesn’t take his eyes off Holster. 

His mouth is hanging open, just a little, and his lips look so plush, still kiss bitten from the girl before. 

Ransom’s gaze is pulled there, inexorably. Even after months of denial and ruthless suppression, he can’t help it as his gaze is dragged down.

Holster clearly notices, blushes harder.

The door closes shut behind Lardo and the gaggle of theatre kids, but Ransom can’t pull his gaze away.

Holster is leaning in again, and then his lips are on Ransom’s and he’s kissing him. It’s slow, and sweet, and nothing like the way he kissed that girl before. It’s intimate, and when they break apart Holster puts his forehead to Ransom’s and just breathes the same air as him for a bit.

He never thought this would be possible, never thought that Holster might, what, reciprocate?

He pulls back, far enough to look Holster in the eyes.

“Wha--” he starts, not even sure where hes going with it.

As always, Holster knows anyways.

“When I said i realized i was bi because of that threesome I might have been lying.” Holster says.

“Oh?”

“It was with Ally and Dana, really.”

Ransom’s gaze is attentive and hopefully reassuring, but he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t know what he would even say.

“Ally made me look, and like, I was paying attention. I kept thinking I should be looking at Dana, but for some reason I just kept watching you.Then she came, and the first thing you did was look up at me and I was looking at you and I was just thinking ‘that’s the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen in my life’ but I was also kind of stupidly jealous, for some reason. It was then. That was when I started to realize.”

“I’ve known I was bi since high school, but I’ve had feelings for you since freshman year.” Ransom blurts.

“What?” Holster exclaims. “All this time?”

“The end of freshman year.” Ransom amends. “Finals week.”

“Still.” Holster exclaims. “That’s a while.”

“I realized I was in love with you about a year ago.”

“Is that why you’ve been acting so weird lately?”

Ransom sighs explosively.

“I was jealous.” He says. “It killed me, seeing you with another guy, after so long thinking you were straight and that that was why I didn’t have a chance with you.”

“But you did--” Holster says “--you do.”

Holster’s hand strokes up his arm, gaze warm and happy.

“I love you too.” He adds. “Fuck, I didn’t even realize that’s what it was until you said you loved me, but I do.”

Then they’re kissing again, more intense this time. Holster is breaking the kiss and pulling him up, pushing him onto the bed, straddling his lap and starting the kiss up again. His heart is racing, hands trembling from the adrenaline and elation that come with knowing that this is actually happening.

“You’re shaking.” Holster murmurs against his lips, hand covering his.

“I’m nervous.” Ransom says. “Kind of been in love with you for-fucking-ever dude.”

“Don’t be.” Holster responds. “I may not have noticed it until recently, but I have been too.”

Then he’s kissing him again. Sweet, languid, deep; he grinds their hips together, and Ransom can feel he’s hard in his jeans. He is too.

Holster’s hand comes between them, and he’s distracted from the kiss as he fumbles with Ransom’s fly, panting against his mouth

He pulls the zipper down and reaches inside, taking Ransom’s dick in his hand and stroking. Ransom lurches forward, a moan bubbling up in his mouth, to kiss Holster again. Holster sucks his tongue into his mouth and rubs his thumb on the underside of Ransom’s cock.

He trails his hand down to grope at the lump in Holster’s jeans, and earns himself a moan into his mouth in response.

He pulls Holsters zipper down, takes his cock in his hand and strokes, relishing the whimper he gets into his mouth.

“Fuck.” Holster says. “Let me…”

He trails off, slotting their dicks together and wrapping his hand around them both, not managing to cover them all the way. 

“Oh.” Ransom says. It’s this involuntary thing, just punched out of him by the sensation. Holster rolls his hips and their dicks slide together. 

He grunts, then shifts out of Ransom’s lap, wiggling his pants off. 

“Lay back.” He says, and when Ransom complies he leans over him, reaching under his ass to pull his pants off too.

“Definite improvement.” Ransom says, and Holster smiles back at him, a little laugh bubbling up.

“Totally.” 

He straddles Ransom again, slotting their dicks together and rolling his hips. 

“Fuck.” He says. “Okay that’s better.”

Ransom laughs breathily. “It was already good dude.”

“For sure.” Holster responds, rolling his hips again, then wrapping his hand around them to stroke them both to the best of his ability.

It’s a good ability.

“Fuck.” Ransom moans. “That’s good.”

Holster takes his hand off, spitting into his palm before picking up where he left off.

“Oh, that’s better too.” Ransom moans.

Holster doesn’t even chuckle, so deeply focused on the task at hand, hips rolling in time with his strokes. He’s beautiful, his brow furrowed and his cheeks reddened and his lower lip being worried.

Ransom feels his own face burning, his heart full and his nerves alight.

He presses his face into his shoulder and moans, suddenly aware of the party still going on, but unable to bring himself to care outside of stifling his noises. He feels a hand rub down his chest, arches his back at the contact to his nipple, gasps when Holster tweaks it. 

“Fuck, you look good.” Holster says, voice breathy as he runs his hand down Ransom’s sides. The other one has picked up the pace, frantically stroking them together, and Ransom can tell he’s close, he’s going to come. 

“Fuck.” He moans again. “God.” And his hand falters in his movement as his eyes squeeze tight and he comes all over Ransom’s belly.

Ransom can’t help but let out a noise, partly appreciative and partly disappointed because he was close too. A few seconds pass of Holster sporadically thrusting, muscles tensing and relaxing, before finally all of him relaxes, and he’s pliant and sated on top of Ransom.

“Fuck that was hot.” Ransom says, and Holster opens his eyes at that, his gaze immediately falling to Ransom’s still hard dick.

“Your turn.” He grins, unstraddling Ransom and licking a stripe up his belly, causing his muscles to tense at the unexpected but not entirely unpleasant sensation.

He trails up to kiss Ransom as he strokes his dick, and Ransom is back to chasing his orgasm again, sensation rising inside him. He throws his head back, and Holster kisses his neck, begins sucking a bruise there, and Ransom is gone. He comes across his stomach as well, adding to the mess Holster made and only partially cleaned. Holster strokes him through it until the sensation is too intense, and Ransom bats his hand away with a breathy “done.”

Holster crawls up onto the bed and lays next to him and they both stare at the ceiling, harsh breath subsiding.

“Woah.” Ransom says.

Holster just nods, and they sit quietly for a little longer until he turns to face Ransom.

“Did we move too fast?” Holster asks.

Ransom gives that question the split second of consideration it deserves before responding: “dude, we’ve had group sex five times.”

“Does a threesome even count as group sex?” Holster asks.

“I don’t know.” Ransom responds. “The point is, this has been a long time coming.”

Holster snickers, and Ransom sees the innuendo and huffs a laugh too.

“Besides,” he concludes, “I’m more concerned about the venue than the timing.”

Holster looks around, wincing with realization. “Oh, bro, we totally just did it in Lardo’s room.”

“I know, we’re going to have to stealth clean her sheets.”

Holster slides off the bed and starts pulling his pants up.

“I’ll carry the sheets downstairs piece by piece so it’s less obvious, you distract her.”

Ransom looks down at the mess on his stomach. “Dude, I’m gonna need a washcloth first, or else the distraction will be a little too on the nose.”

——

Eight months later

——

“We’re moving in together.” Holster remarks, out of the blue as they lie on their backs.

Ransom turns to gauge his expression and finds an exhilarated grin. 

“Yeah, bro.”

Holster turns to face him.

“No man, you don’t get it.” He insists. “We’re moving in together. As a couple.”

Ransom laughs, allowing himself to be swept up in Holsters apparent euphoria.

“You do realize we’ve been roommates for three years now, right?”

Holster puts his hand against Ransom’s face.

“But I thought I was going to lose you for a bit there. I thought this was it. You have no idea how glad I am it isn’t.”

He smiles, and it’s so sweet that Ransom just has to lean in for a kiss.

Something tells him they’ll be living together for a long time.

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank you to catc10 for the lovely art of the opening scene and the spin the bottle scene! You can find it here:
> 
> https://catc10.tumblr.com/post/189126611630/my-part-for-omgcpbb-my-author-just-posted-a


End file.
